Vines of Fate
by DuplexBeGreat
Summary: My first attempt at a Pokémon fanfic, set in a made-up region of twin islands with a somewhat despotic government. Not a typical OC story. I will try to stick to a weekly update schedule, but I would appreciate receiving at least two reviews per chapter before the next one. Figure out for yourself if I own Pokémon.
1. Prologue: A Single Elegant Machine

**AN:  
So this is my first fanfic, ever. I've been unsuccessfully trying to write fanfiction since I was eight, but this is the first time it's ever been published. Please, please review, and do so honestly. I want to know if I suck at this or maybe have some talent. Additionally, be very, very harsh when it comes to grammar, spelling, and punctuation. I have zero tolerance for a lack of grammatical perfection in myself. I do suck at proper quote punctuation, though; criticism there would be most appreciated.**

**Regarding the story itself, yes, it takes place in a made-up region. This fanfic came to me in a dream, literally. One night about half a year ago my subconscious mind came up with a pretty interesting story, so I decided to try writing it. I don't know how the story's going to end; aside from the region, a couple characters, and basic plot, there wasn't much info in 7 hours of sleep. I will not be telling you the setup of the region at the start, you'll have to figure it out from context. I do have a full idea of what it looks like. Also, this goes by game canon for the most part, but seeing as we're in a made-up region that won't affect the characters or setting too much. Mainly, I'm talking about things like the lore surrounding the legendaries, Pokémon not using their human-made names as cries, and the exact mechanics of moves and abilities. I also headcanon a few bits of this, for example, Pokémon can learn more than four moves and have all abilities possible for their species, not counting hidden abilities, as I feel that's more realistic.**

**By the way, I do not own Pokémon. I know, I know, it's a lot to take in. On a more serious note, original characters DO belong to me.**

**So, without further ado, on to the story!**

Vines of Fate

Prologue: Single Elegant Machine

"Gawaah!" the foe's quagsire cried out, falling on its back, and then landing on a firm, yet somewhat soft, training mat. Thrust hovered menacingly over its fallen opponent, its central eye ensuring that the Water and Ground type truly was unconscious, before returning to Creon's side of the battlefield, obediently waiting to be retrieved into its Pokéball.

Creon bowed to the other trainer, a tax-paid battling instructor, then produced his Pokéball and pressed the button to return Thrust. Pausing briefly to check the damage done to the room by the fight and mentally calculate the cost to repair it, he walked out of the battle stadium and towards the changing room.

One luxurious shower later, and the governor of Salmerre had set aside the light blue training uniform and donned a seersucker suit, placing his Pokéballs in various pockets so as not to create a bulge in any one that might show during the meeting. This task completed, Creon began a trek through the many and varied halls of the Capitol building, easily making all the correct turns. He had, of course, designed the building, which doubled as the governor's mansion, himself.

It did indeed take a good ten minutes to reach the conference room in which the meeting would be held, but Creon had known it would take that long and planned the length of his training accordingly. He reached the main entrance to the conference room and pushed open both double doors as he walked in, turning all eyes seated at the table, which spanned the length of the large room, on him. Creon made eye contact with no one and everyone at the same time, sitting down in his swivel chair that had been turned to face the door for convenience and smoothly turning it back to face the other politicians.

The others, administrators of various branches of government, began to raise points in formal debate one after the other, most of them tedious yet important, essential yet routine. Creon kept mental notes on all noteworthy proceedings, typing out the rest on his datapad to be automatically sent to assistants at the meeting's conclusion. Now and then, an official would call on Creon to instruct him or her in the correct course of action, now and then, a quiet, professional disagreement would break out and Creon would dictate what the government would do with regards to the subject. No one questioned him, for he was Creon Avlas, genius inventor, politician, and battler. No one dared get on his bad side, for he was Creon Avlas, governor supreme, benevolent to the people, but ruthless to the few individuals that opposed that benevolence.

After the meeting had ended, Creon began to get up from his chair, but was stopped by an aide in a two-piece suit. Creon knew her name, of course, as he did all those in the employ of the government. "A moment, please, sir" said Marie Garvón. Her Kalos accent might have been slightly hard to understand for most, but Creon had no such issues.

"Yes?"

"Sir, there was an incident down near the harbor, just now, during your meeting. A young man began handing out leaflets, an act which, by itself, is not of course prohibited by any means. However, a police officer took one and read it over to check for seditious messages, as per standard procedure-"

Creon would have informed Marie Garvón that he, of all people, did not need to be reminded what was and wasn't illegal, and that to do so was to waste valuable time, but of course, rebuking the woman would have wasted even more time. He kept silent.

"-and when the officer saw the contents of the message, he believed you might find it necessary to take action against the man." She handed him a paper.

Creon read it quickly, his eyes widening. Alarm bells went off in his head.

_Impossible- how could anyone discover-_

He regained his composure and answered the woman. "Indeed. Please message the officer immediately and thank him for informing me of this. Give him permission to take command of all police officers and all other government-employed trainers or law enforcement in the immediate area, and then arrest the man and any colleagues he may have. The officer and his allies must be ready to engage in a Pokémon battle, as the offenders will likely attempt to resist arrest. The officer is to charge them with conspiracy against the government, transport them to the nearest prison, and interrogate them using enforcement method H7E as to how they came by the information contained in these booklets. Have those taken charge of by the officer disperse into the surrounding buildings to retrieve and destroy all copies of the booklets, and reassure the citizens that the information contained within is _false_." He snarled out the last word, crunching the paper firmly in his fist before noticing the aide's stunned expression and recomposing himself once more. "Never you mind. I shall notify the officer. Thank you, Miss Garvón. Dismissed."

The young woman nodded her head quickly, before leaving the room to attend to other doings. Creon sent the message to the police officer, along with the proper authorization codes to take command of other officers and trainers, before sinking deeply into his chair, his thoughts abuzz.

It was the first time in several years that any sort of incident like this had come up, and quite possibly the first time ever in the history of the new government of Salmerre that the incident might have caused so great a tragedy as this one, had Creon not stopped it in time.

In a way, Creon was glad that the monotony of peaceful life was broken by occurrences such as this every once in a while, because it provided police officers and other trainers the chance to test their skills and ensure that they remained competent. Creon had no such issue, as he kept to a rigorous daily training regimen, but the same concept applied- that was why he had had Thrust fight a quagsire this morning, as the Water/Ground typing was extremely difficult for a magnezone to defeat, and thus improved Thrust's skills even more upon victory.

So long as there was never any _real_ threat to the government. Creon had a mind of superb memory and calculation, and it was upon this mind that he had built the government of Salmerre. All irregularities were normalized, all disturbances were quieted, all routines were kept. For the whole of the government was a single, elegant machine.

**So... Review, please! Yes, I have only introduced one major character, but this is only the prologue, after all. Additionally, Creon is not the protagonist of this story. Is he the villain? I suspect so, but like I said, I'm sort of making this up as I go along.**


	2. Chapter 1: Hopeful Beginnings

**AN: First chapter, and we meet the protagonist. For the record, since I just know some people will be confused by this, there is no such thing in the games as an "official trainer starting age". If you actually think about it, you always get your starter from the professor because he/she wants you to do something for them, or you are a family friend. Kids can become trainers starting as young as five; it really just depends on how soon you are able to get a pokémon, whether it's as a gift, or just randomly encountered and captured by luck. This is why my character doesn't have any sort of "starter" obtained through official means. I said this wouldn't be a normal OC trainer story, and I stand by that promise, even if for now it seems like just another "travel around the region, beat the gyms, become the best" OC fic. Things should start to change around chapter 4 or 5... Again, pleasepleasePLEASE review. Tell me what to work on, whether it's grammar, writing technique, or story ideas. And yes, the chapter title is generic and uninspired. It just seems to work. Whatever.**

Vines of Fate  
Chapter One: Hopeful Beginnings

Fire is nature, raw and powerful. Fire is death, consuming all in its path. Fire is life, providing warmth and energy to early human beings. Fire is destruction, and the pathway to supreme power. I love fire.

I knew that from an early age. Starting when I was four, I loved to play with my neighbor's pet growlithe more than any of the pokémon in my own house- a petilil, squirtle, and purrloin. I sought out wild vulpix and litleo whenever my family went to the park, and one time, when I was six, I pretended to be a fire-type pokémon at a campfire by "using ember". That entailed scooping up fire in my hand and throwing it at an enemy geodude (a large rock I had found). Needless to say, that event taught me to be wary of fire, but at the same time, I came to respect it even more.

My goal in life is to become not just a pokémon master, but a fire-type master specifically. My room is covered with pictures of every fire-type known to mankind, including the legendaries. I've already made exact plans for my quest: on my thirteenth birthday, my parents will buy me a magby. They've agreed to allowing me to set off on my journey at that time, and everything else seems to be in order as well; it's the night before and my traveling clothes, essentials, pokéballs, and everything else are packed.

Connor DeRenall is ready.

Morning comes and I wake up to the irritating beep of an alarm clock, set to exactly 7:54 am, which I have been told is the time that I was born. This needs to be as perfectly organized as possible.

Is there a magby waiting for me downstairs? One way to find out. I get out of bed much quicker than I ever have, turning on a ceiling light as I can't be bothered to open my curtains. I don't bother to change out of the t-shirt and sweats I slept in just yet; there's no reason to put on my traveling clothes until I actually leave the house and start my journey, and it would just put more time between me and magby. I don't need to do anything ridiculous like pushing my hair out of my face, either; it is cut short for precisely this reason.

Out of my bedroom, down the hallway, into the living room. My house isn't the smallest, but it does only have one floor. My parents bought the magby the day before and had agreed to give it to me around eight, so I only have to wait a few minutes before my dad wanders, sleepy-eyed, into the room. He looks confused at first as to why I'm there, before remembering the date, the occasion, and what he's supposed to be doing. He turns back to the master bedroom, probably to fetch the pokéball the magby is being kept in, only to encounter my mom exiting from it, already dressed and holding the small, red and white sphere in her hand.

That's one of the things I love about my parents, that they're such opposites. My dad, Alex, is a writer, and was a strong trainer when he was around my age. He's never very good at keeping to a schedule, and most of his books are heavily delayed from the expected release date, but he writes quickly once he has an idea, and you can tell from reading his books (mostly mystery novels) that he can really empathize with the characters he makes and pour out their passions into the story.

My mom, June, is a lawyer. I know a lot of people find that sort of thing boring, but whenever I see her tear apart the other side by throwing technicality after technicality at them, it feels like she's in an intense battle, only using words instead of pokémon.

I've inherited qualities from both of them- his jet black hair and tall stature, her sky blue eyes and strong facial features, tan skin that's halfway between his light and her dark- but more importantly, I picked up on both my dad's passion for battle and my mom's analytical procedures. Fire burns hot, but it's also methodical- it kills everything without exception.

Dad immediately tries to fix his mistake. "Happy birthday, Connor! Are you ready to meet your new partner?" Yes. Yes yes yes I most definitely am.

Mom smiles and hands me the pokéball. "Happy birthday. I love you so much; I can't believe you're already thirteen!" Why does some adult always say that on my birthday, every year?

I take the ball from her, my face showing quite clearly that I am unable to contain my excitement. "Thank you so, so much, Mom and Dad!" Without hesitation, I throw the ball into the air exactly as Dad taught me.

There is a puff of flame in the air where the pokéball reaches its climax, and then a small dark red creature appears, falling into my outstretched arms. The magby looks around cautiously before smiling at me and letting out a small cry of greeting. Its body temperature is supposedly around 1100 degrees, but that's obviously only internally, as it only feels slightly uncomfortable against my skin. Still, I set it down, just in case.

I'll skip the boring goodbyes and skip to about an hour later, as I'm walking out the door. I've changed out of my sleep clothes into the outfit I picked out a couple weeks ago for traveling: hiking boots, cargo pants, a sleeveless shirt, a short-sleeve jacket unbuttoned down the front, all dark grey and red, and bright red and black wristbands. Magby is back in its pokéball, and my brand new Holo Caster is tucked away inside my backpack. I haven't decided on a name for magby yet, but I'm sure one will come to me soon as I get to know him.

I'm prepared for everything, and I'm pretty good under pressure. I have a starter pokémon of my favorite type, and there were absolutely no problems in the crucial first hour of the first day. What could possibly go wrong?

**Sorry, this would have been up much sooner, but, believe it or not, I couldn't think of a name for the main character, or what pokémon to give him. Once I settled on magby, I developed the fire-types-rule mentality last minute. Ironic, as it's now essential to Connor's character. Again, please review!**


	3. Chapter 2: Plannings

**I have this theory that my writing can be split into two distinct types. There's "painting", where I have an idea and I try to portray it through writing. This happens at important moments in a story or at the main focus points of an essay. Then there's "spinning", where I'm trying to move the plot along in a story, or build up support in an essay, by writing anything I can think of. I call it "spinning" because, like when a spider makes web, I'm just pulling it out of my ass.**

Vines of Fate  
Chapter Two: Plannings

As I walked down the main street of Sencille City, it occurred to me that I had no idea what I was actually doing. Yes, I had the basics down and an overall goal established (Beat the gyms. Become a Fire type master), but beyond that, I didn't know any of the specific details, such as what other pokémon I would catch, or which gym I would challenge first.

One thing at a time. Which pokémon? Well, it wouldn't work to have an unbalanced team of completely Fire types. It would be better to use, say, two or three, and maybe have a Fire type move on some of the others, but I would need to have a balanced team, especially considering that three of the gyms in the region were the three types Fire was weak to.

The Salmerre region consists of two large islands, connected by a bridge. Four gyms on each island. Simple. For practicality, I decided to beat all the gyms on Salmerre proper before heading to neighboring Pralso.

By the time I came to these decisions, I had reached the end of the city limits, marked by a sign that showed Route 609 to the west and Route 610 to the east. Taking a deep breath, I started down 610, my first steps out of the city as a trainer.

It simply made more sense in every way to take the route to the east. Route 610 contained a small lake, and a Water type pokémon would make for excellent coverage next to a Fire type starter. The route also lead towards Salmerre's capital, Thelnus City, which, besides giving me good exposure to the place where all important decisions were made, had a Bug type gym- easy pickings for my still unnamed magby.

The route itself would probably take me about a day to get through, assuming I stayed to the main path with only occasional battles and headed straight for Thelnus. But, of course, that wasn't the point. I deviated to the left and started walking towards the lake, at which point I had my first battle with a wild pokémon. It was a budew, so you can probably guess what happened.

I threw Magby's pokéball for the second time that day, marveling again at the technology that allowed a complex organism to be transformed into energy like that. As soon as it touched the ground, Magby knew what it was supposed to do- it appeared to have been bred for a more fighting-inclined personality. I wondered whether that was luck, or if Mom and Dad had bought this from a top-notch breeder or someone of the sort. Either way, the aggression was a good thing. The budew was surprisingly fast and shot out a Sleep Powder right away, but Magby easily evaded it. I probably would have been screwed if he hadn't.

"Use Ember," I stated clearly. Magby had no trouble following that command, and the battle was practically over. The budew would heal, given time, while another Ember would probably kill it. I could catch the budew if I wanted to.

No. I have no need for a Grass type. They're easily the weakest type, going by number of weaknesses alone, and if I'm going to be getting a Water type soon anyways there's no need for Ground or Rock type coverage. I recalled Magby and left the budew where it was.

The path leading down from the main road was more treacherous than I had initially seen; the rocks were a problem both in travel and battling, as they provided hiding places for sandshrew and bunnelby, pokémon with natural advantages over a Fire type. Still, they were low level and didn't know any severely damaging Ground type moves.

Over the course of about twenty battles with wild pokémon, using the potions I had packed when necessary, I learned that the magby, besides Ember, Smog, and Leer, knew Karate Chop. Obviously someone had bred it for battle. I silently thanked my parents again, as the Fighting type move came in handy against the rare geodude that otherwise would have ended my training career then and there.

By the end of those twenty or so battles, I was getting bored of the constant interruptions into a simple trip to a lake that couldn't be more than twenty minutes walking distance away. The wild pokémon didn't provide any sort of challenge to Magby after he got about fifteen wins, because the experience gain had boosted him up enough to one-hit-knock-out even the extremely durable sandshrew. He learned Smokescreen, but there was no reason to use it. So it was with great excitement that I saw there was another trainer down near the lake, once I finally got there.

I was hesitant to approach at first. The odds of this being another beginner were very, very low, which meant there would be almost no way for me to win- but I had tasted the thrill of battle, and I needed more. Nervously checking over my entire person- retying my boots, tightening my backpack straps, tugging at my wristbands- I took another breath and approached the unknown person.

"Um- hello?"

The figure turned around quickly, and to my relief, it was another boy about my age, give or take a few years. He was slightly startled at first. "Aah! Oh. A trainer." His voice was very nervous, as if he didn't expect to win a battle either.

I allowed myself to hope that I was lucky enough to have met someone else at my skill level. "Are... You a beginner?" My voice was still extremely shaky as well.

"Yeah. Uh, you too?"

"Uh, yeah." We lingered there in awkward silence for a few seconds before I took the initiative again. "So, should we battle?"

"I guess so." He was somewhat short, with reddish hair and brown eyes, and seemed to be completely physically inept, clumsily dropping his pokéball as he took it out of a pocket in the light yellow hoodie he wore. How he had gotten down from the road was beyond me.

I waited for him to retrieve the capsule before walking back about twenty feet and throwing my own ball. "Go, Magby!" I hadn't shouted anything like that while fighting the wild pokémon, but I knew most trainers did yell something when sending out a pokémon, and I was trying to intimidate this guy.

He launched his pokéball surprisingly high into the air, despite my earlier perceptions about his physical capabilities. The creature that landed on the ground was just another sandshrew. I felt sorry for him; he clearly had caught it by luck and was never given a specially chosen pokémon like I had.

On the other hand, less privileged or not, that sandshrew might have been a legitimate threat to Magby. As a trainer's pokémon, it might be higher leveled than the wild sandshrew, in which case it would know a Ground type move. "Smokescreen!" I shouted, hoping that this would protect Magby from, say, Mud-slap. Magby inhaled briefly, then blew out a large cloud of thick black smoke between him and the sandshrew.

As it turned out, the other trainer had the same idea. "Sand Attack!" he said with surprising force. Maybe his earlier nervousness was a tactic to make me let my guard down? The result of the move, in any case, was sand flying out from inside the cloud and hitting Magby in the face, getting in his eyes as the other trainer intended. I realized that this battle might take a very long time, indeed, if both pokémon kept missing each other.

Fortunately, it didn't take quite so long. The other trainer's tactic was to use Rollout, as Sandshrew apparently didn't know any Ground type moves. Magby probably could only have taken one hit of that, but he didn't have to. Rollout consists of the pokémon curling itself into a ball and then rolling towards the target, but that obviously isn't the most accurate move in the first place. With the cloud of smoke obscuring the sandshrew's vision, it never managed to make contact with my nimble magby. Magby's accuracy was lowered as well, thanks to Sand Attack, but it was much easier to aim an Ember than a Rollout, so after about five minutes of all but three attacks missing, Magby's correctly aimed a fourth Ember that took the sandshrew down.

I happily ran up to Magby and patted him on the head before producing the pokéball and retrieving him again. I really needed to get him a nickname. The other trainer was fairly friendly and substantially less nervous around me after the battle. We scrounged for enough oran berries together to bring his sandshrew back to full health, after which he hastily thanked me, gave me my prize money, and decided to return to the main road and head towards Sencille. It turned out I had assumed he was from the same city as me, but in reality he had come from the opposite direction.

I stayed by the lake and watched the wooper and marill playing in the water, trying to decide what the best Water type to catch would be. My musings led nowhere after about half an hour, so in the end I settled on traveling towards Thelnus for now, asking around and learning what pokémon the Gym Leader had once I got there, and then returning to the lake to catch an appropriate counter.

The wild pokémon on the climb back up to the road posed to threat to Magby at all, and I was starting to consider naming him something along the lines of "Inferno", to indicate his power. I came across another trainer, a fifteen-year-old girl. Upon seeing that she had all of the Hoenn region's badges, as well as four from Salmerre, pinned neatly on her coat, I explained that I was clearly outmatched and she let me by without a fight. It wouldn't have been fair or fun for either one of us.

Once I managed to reach the main road again, it was nothing more than a leisurely stroll north to reach Thelnus City; the only wild pokémon that attacked me were the especially bold ones who decided to venture too far away from the decline towards the lake. I arrived at the city gate five hours later, just after nightfall. Obviously, the capital was a very big place, so I simply took the first decent hotel I saw and decided to go explore the city the next day. My first day as a trainer, while not very taxing compared to what I was certain to face in the future, had left me exhausted nonetheless.

The fee for one night wasn't extremely high; with the money my parents had given me and the prize money from the battle at the lake I could easily afford it. I took a shower, put on a change of sleep clothes- a plain black t-shirt and grey boxers- and after feeding Magby some hotel-made, medium-quality pokémon food, fell asleep.


	4. Chapter 3: The Big City

**I guess one issue I'm going to have a lot is boring chapter names.**

Vines of Fate  
Chapter Three: The Big City

It was pretty easy for me to wake up the next morning, as I was still incredibly excited to _finally be going on a journey_. I repeated those words over and over in my head about fifteen times before throwing off the blankets and jumping out of the hotel bed to return to said journey. The sky outside was still grey, which wasn't surprising as I had gone to bed early.

Going through daily necessities- such as basic hygiene- seemed to take less time now, on the journey, with no rush, than it ever did at home, where there was the constant danger of being late for school hanging over my head. Changing into my traveling clothes took less than two minutes, finishing up with my backpack and boots. Most of my personal items, changes of clothes, and such were still scattered around the room. There was no reason to pack them all, as I would be coming back to the hotel tonight and staying in Thelnus City for at least a few more days. I pocketed Magby's pokéball, swearing to whatever divine power, human or pokémon, that there might be that _dammit, that thing would be getting a nickname today_.

Downstairs in the hotel lobby, I realized that for the second day in a row I had absolutely no designated course of action. Sighing dramatically to myself, I simply walked out the door and started wandering around the city, sightseeing and trying to find some sort of battle club or trainer's school.

I was in luck. About ten blocks away from the hotel, I came across a simple, every-day battle club, officially named "Mr. Dennows's Multi-Level-Friendly Pokémon Battle House!" Yes, the name was rather silly, but I tried the place anyway and it turned out exactly what I was looking for: a basic place for trainers to gather and battle for either fun or competition. "Mr Dennows" had his own system of matchmaking that seemed almost too perfect, as well: your skill was judged based on the number of gym badges you had and the number of pokémon you had caught. One only battled against others at their level.

I signed up for a low-cost half-day session. There was some waiting involved before my first battle, as this early in the morning few trainers were awake, and none of the others at the battle house were on my level. The entire city seemed to wake up around nine o'clock, with my first battle taking place against a ten-year-old girl who, like me, had just started her journey that week. Though Magby appeared slightly stronger than her venipede at first, not to mention that he obviously had a type advantage, the girl was extremely book-smart, and commanded Venipede into just the right positions, poisioning Magby early on and then dodging enough attacks to survive until he fainted.

I wasn't upset that I lost, because I had learned a good amount from the battle, and the girl obviously knew her stuff. Magby was healed in a machine, and I had my next battle about six minutes later. Over the next three hours, I won slightly over half of my battles, stopping for a lunch break at twelve. Lunch was productive as well, because it gave me an opportunity to talk with trainers more highly-skilled than me, as well as those at my level that had beaten me, learning something from each of them. I stayed at the battle club for another two hours before finally pronouncing it a good day's work, for now at least. Magby had learned a new move over the course of the battles: Feint Attack. I likely wouldn't need it against the Thelnus Gym, but it was a nice indication that I was doing something right so far.

Heading out the Battle House door and into the streets again, I set my next destination as the Capitol building. It wasn't likely that I would encounter any other trainers there, or really anything at all that would help me prepare for the gym battle, but I knew that the visitors' center contained a nice museum-like exhibit on some of the history and politics of Salmerre. I was interested in learning a little bit about the government, just as part of a general education. The beginnings of an idea for Magby's name were forming in the back of my head as well: name him after a historical figure! There wasn't really any reasoning behind it, but the thought had taken root, and since there were almost no other ideas for a name at the time, I decided to just go with it.

Obviously, it wasn't very hard to find the Capitol, but getting entrance, even just to the visitors' center, was a huge hassle. Besides the usual metal detector and luggage scanner that you see at airports and other places, the procedures here required that all pokéballs be placed in a special machine that completely analyzed everything about the pokémon, just in case. The process took about half a minute, so my mind wandered and I found myself inventing a crazy conspiracy theory: what if the government was using this data to _clone_ pokémon? Projects such as that were certainly not unheard of, and Salmerre's governor definitely was rich enough.

The random daydream was interrupted by a beeping noise that signaled that the machine had finished its task. A security guard pressed some more buttons, then removed Magby's pokéball and handed it back to me. I thanked him and eagerly walked into the main reception area.

This place was enormous. The ceiling was probably high enough to accommodate a dragonite on steroids, and hallways branched off in every direction, each with a sign on a nearby wall stating the government division that they led to. _Agricultural board. Supreme court. Legislative civil. Legislative specialized. Intelligence. Security. Pokémon research. Technology_. And on, and on, and on. I didn't see any sign along the lines of _Governor's Office_, or _Executive Wing_, though.

I had been hoping to catch a glimpse of the famous governor of Salmerre, Creon Avlas. Everyone had been taught a basic overview of our modern government back in fifth grade, and that elementary school textbook had somehow communicated to me just how amazing this man was. Incredibly intelligent, perfectly holding together the island with his guidance of all branches of government, winning dozens of international awards for humanitarian and architectural work... And best of all, he was a master trainer, specializing in no one type, but simply creating a team of pokémon that suited his style and hadn't lost a battle in years. That he had become so proficient at the art while still creating an everyday life, a life which in itself was extraordinary, was a testament to what was possible if you truly wanted the win. I did want it, and I intended to use this man as a role model, fighting pokémon battles with efficiency and insight. My academic intelligence wasn't exceptional, but I had instincts and battle intuition that would hopefully (and had so far, in terms of one route and one Battle House) set me above the rest of the crowd and on a path similar to the one Creon, as everyone called him, had walked. In battling, that is. Not politics.

Despite not apparently being allowed access to (or even allowed knowledge of the location of) Creon's office, I wasn't discouraged- after all, this was still the Capitol building- and simply explored other areas instead. The Supreme Court wasn't in session, but there were tours given of the courtroom. The visitors' center exhibit told me information about the working of the government that I already knew, along with some stuff that I didn't. In general, the trip was productive, but Magby still lacked a nickname.

My solution to that was to march over to a memorial wall from a war about two centuries ago and stare at the columns of names, moving quickly down each one, looking for a name that seemed to embody fire.

-Elsewhere-

Creon strode purposefully through the halls of the Capitol building, never breaking his stride for any door, as they were all automatic. Despite the nature of his current activities, his destination was not the Security wing as one might expect, but instead the Intelligence offices. Though Security contained the police headquarters, it was Intelligence that was charged with, obviously, finding and recording all information pertaining to the government or current affairs. That definition was all-encompassing, which resulted in it being the job of intelligence to interrogate prisoners of Security.

As he reached the private interior entrance to the Intelligence wing, as opposed to the "exterior" entrance within the public reception area, Creon reviewed the facts in his head: the man arrested two days ago had passed out flyers containing information on Creon's current Project, information dangerously close to the truth. Upon further review of the flyers, Creon had realized that his initial horror on seeing them was an overreaction; there was no major threat to regional peace inherent in the public reading the leaflets, as the claims they made were completely false. However, the accused had been so very close to a true breach of classified information that it would be necessary to learn what the source for the information was, so as to close it off and prevent whatever organization the man was associated with from learning anything of real value.

To this end the arrested man had been put through a standard interrogation with Security's police force, which consisted of being asked questions and being told that his prison sentence would be reduced if he talked. That method produced no results, and so the man had been turned over to Intelligence for alternate procedures.

Stopping in front of the first non-automatic door he had entered recently, Creon entered a four-digit passkey into the touch-screen keypad next to the door, then placed his palm on the screen. With authorization confirmed, the pitch black door slid open. Creon stepped through the entrance into a bustling world of computers and productivity.

Truth be told, the Intelligence wing offices were some of Creon's favorite places to pass time. Everything reeked of efficiency, from the fact that every single human and pokémon was occupied with an important task, to the wireless internet and local connection servers placed directly in the center of the terminals so as to reduce unnecessary computer lag which would have slowed down work by a good deal otherwise. At present, visiting the office, though rarely done as there was rarely a productive reason to, was one of the few things that could be said to cause Creon definable pleasure.

He approached a light-skinned, blond woman wearing a business suit and standing behind a computer. She was monitoring the activities of a subordinate as the man worked on the machine. The woman turned as Creon's footsteps were heard and instantly proceeded to give a report, knowing what the governor had come to ask about.

"The suspect was placed into the charge of government-employed trainer and Intelligence operative Collin Weinkopf, an electric type specialist. Weinkopf can give you a full report." She pressed a button to call for the aforementioned Weinkopf.

Creon nodded but did not speak as the head of Intelligence reported. There was no friendly chat or even greeting by name between them as they waited for Weinkopf; they were associates, not friends, and besides, she worked for him. In about a minute Weinkopf appeared through a doorway leading further into the complex. The man was unusually short, with light brown hair, fair skin, and a cheery expression on his face. Ironic, considering the task he had recently performed as part of his job. Motioning to another door, Weinkopf led Creon and the blond woman into a small, private meeting room, where the other government workers would not be able to overhear their conversation.

"Greetings, Mr. Creon, Sir. Ah-ahm-" Weinkopf's voice was jumping back and forth, most likely due to awe at meeting the head of the government he worked for. He cleared his throat and continued. "I interrogated the suspect through method E2, as indicated by my pokémon type specialty, a-and after half a day, with regular breaks of twenty minutes every hour, he yielded the information. He claimed that his affiliates, who he would not reveal the names of despite continued interrogation, had obtained the information contained in the flyers by directly accessing-" He gulped, and finished, "The-the main government local network."

Creon, for one of five times in his life, was stunned. _The main government network_? As in, this terrorist group had walked into the Capitol and _used a private computer_? "How?" he snarled.

Collin Weinkopf was still having trouble speaking. "The-the suspect said that he had flown onto a balcony of the Capitol during the middle of the night four days ago. One of the pokémon he had on him when arrested, which was in fact used to fight our police officers and trainers, was a t-togekiss."

These claims were still full of holes. "And how did this man then get inside without leaving a mark on the door? Or hack into our computers, given the state-of-the-art firewall programs on all of them? He is lying." He had better be. If the suspect had told the truth, then the fact that something like this could have been carried out right under Creon's nose boded ill indeed for the government.

"H-he also possessed... A gardevoir." Then silence. Everyone knew what that meant. Weinkopf finally got over his stutter, then added, "And, if I may speak from personal experience, Sir, given my knowledge of computers and electric-type pokémon... No software is unhackable."

Creon pondered this, then reached a decision. "Miss Landbard, these actions performed by this rebel are unacceptable. We cannot allow word to spread that the Capitol was so easily infiltrated, or it could destroy public belief in the government's invincibility. Your thoughts?"

The blond woman agreed. "Indeed. However, besides the three of us, who alone know the whole story-" She turned her head, questioningly, towards Weinkopf, who nodded. "Besides the three of us, numerous government police officers and trainers, not to mention a good deal of the government workers under my employ in Intelligence, are aware of the basic facts of the situation. Additionally, the suspect was _passing out flyers_. He was arrested in public. Far too many people know something about this incident for it to be completely covered up."

More pondering, then, "Agreed. We shall need to fabricate a story. How else could this man have gained this false information-" He stopped. "Just how was it that the information he came away with was _false_, Mr. Weinkopf?"

The short, pudgy man responded. "He was nervous, due to the nature of his mission, which made him end his browsing of our databases far too early, resulting in him leaving with an... Incomplete picture, shall we say."

Creon resumed his declaration. "We shall need to develop a false story that plausibly explains how the man could have come by the information and how he could have left with only _false_ data, yet does not point out any obvious gaps in government security, such as how he reached the building by _air-dropping onto a balcony_. In fact, besides developing an alternate story, we will need to ensure that the actual event cannot be enacted again by any of the other terrorists." He reached into a pocket of his suit pants, retrieving a smartphone, and tapped out a message, instructing an aide to purchase an automated defense system to be installed on the roof and all balconies of the Capitol.

Landbard had a solution. "Perhaps we could claim that he placed a bug on a computer in the public lobby of the Capitol building, which then sent him information by accessing the government network remotely, but was not powerful enough to retrieve the majority of our files?"

"No, you fool. The lobby computers are not connected to the private network-" A smile spread across Creon's face, a rare occurrence. "Ah, I see. The public is not aware of that fact. Excellent, Ms. Landbard." He started to type another message to an aide, ordering a press release containing the artificial information, but then stopped. "No. He could not possibly have done the job alone that way; it simply would not be possible for one man to attach a hacking device to one of the computers in plain view of the public. He would have needed an accomplice to create a distraction."

Weinkopf shrugged. "Then invent an accomplice. Arrest someone and say they were the distraction. Wasn't there a robbery on Main Street a few days ago?"

"Yes, there was. Two masked criminals, who bombed their way into a bank, stole large amounts of physical money, and attempted to flee under cover of Smokescreen in a getaway car. One did not make it to the car, but then escaped by fleeing into the alleys and was never found. The other was apprehended when the car was stopped a few streets down by the police." Another smile. "I see. We can claim that we have located the other robber, and that they were returning to the Capitol to retrieve the bug." He resumed typing, and then sent the message. "Now we need only to find our scapegoat."

All three conspirators affirmed the plan before exiting the meeting room and heading their separate ways. As Creon returned down the hallways he had come from, he mused that the discussion had taken less than ten minutes. Efficient.

**I'm sure you can guess what happens next.**


End file.
